


crushed gardenia petals

by lunarwaves



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, kai is a saint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27229477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarwaves/pseuds/lunarwaves
Summary: Why Yaku kind of hates gardenias:1) They smell incredibly strong2) The petals get everywhere3) They remind him of Kuroo
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	crushed gardenia petals

**Author's Note:**

> bc s4e17 made me a full-fledged yaku stan and yakuroo shipper
> 
> as always, s/o to [@cupidshootstokill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidshootstokill/works) for making this coherent

Many people forget that hanahaki is first and foremost a genetic disease, set off only by environmental triggers. They get swept up in thoughts of romance and treatments before thinking about how exactly one gets it.

Neither of Yaku’s parents had the disease.

So it’s a surprise when he coughs up flower petals in his first year, hunched over a school toilet. He panics, leaves practice early, and goes to the hospital as fast as he can.

Yaku sits on the examination table, listening intently as the doctor draws a punnett square in front of his family and explains how he got the disease. Both his parents had the dominant genes for no hanahaki but were carriers for the recessive ones which caused it. With the way the square was drawn, it seemed as though there was only a 25% chance of him inheriting it.

Just his luck then.

People also often forget that hanahaki can be caused by loves other than romantic- the brochures he gets at the office tell him all about unrequited platonic and familial love.

When Yaku’s parents ask about his disease, he lies through his teeth while folding his prescription for suppressants into a paper crane. He tells them it’s because of a friend, probably because of some fight or realization.

Really it’s because of the way Kuroo will fight him at any opportunity and how his smile is sharp enough to cut clean through Yaku’s heart.

💮💮💮

If you asked Yaku when he realized he liked Kuroo, he would probably tell you it was in their first year, when the then captain had asked the first years to state their goals. They had both stepped forward at the same time and said, “winning nationals.”

When they made eye contact afterwards, Yaku saw his own shock mirrored in Kuroo’s expression. It was strange for them to actually agree on something, and he found himself dwelling on that brief interaction for the rest of the day. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Yaku found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Kuroo. He focused on the way his thighs tensed, thick with muscle, seconds before he went to make a block. He listened intently to Kuroo’s hideous hyena laugh, vaguely entertaining the thought of being the person to draw out more of those. They sat together one lunch when Kai wasn’t there, cramming for the test they had afterwards with a few inches of space between their knees.

The crush affected his playing too. He got conked in the head with a ball more in his first year at Nekoma than in the entirety of middle school, distracted by the sight of Kuroo’s ass in volleyball shorts or mental replays of their conversations.

Sometime during all this, his mom started growing gardenias. She bought an already flowering plant from some home goods store and stuck it outside with the rest of her little garden.

Yaku walked past it everyday on the way to and from his house. One day, as he headed to morning practice, he gently tore a gardenia off the stem, feeling really stupid and kind of like an asshole. He silently apologized to his mother before methodically peeling the petals off, watching them fall to the pavement as he walked.

_He loves me._

_He loves me not._

_He loves me._

_He loves me not._

_He loves me._

_He loves me not…_

Even though it was just a stupid game, Yaku still didn’t want the flower to tell him that Kuroo doesn’t like him. So he tossed the rest of the gardenia away and let it land on the street, white petals a stark contrast against asphalt.

He ended up having to leave practice early that day to go vomit in the bathroom.

It was slightly terrifying when instead of the tell-tale sting of bile, Yaku felt a dry softness in his throat before he started coughing, the pressure in his lungs intensifying with every moment that passed.

Dread coiled in his gut as he finally peeked at the contents of what he threw up, innocuous petals floating inside the toilet bowl.

They were gardenias.

💮💮💮

The problems with gardenias:

**1) They smell incredibly strong**

“What the fuck?” Kuroo asks one day as they’re changing into their uniforms for volleyball practice. “Why’re you wearing perfume?”

“I’m not wearing perfume,” Yaku snaps, mentally cursing himself for not getting hanahaki with a flower that wasn’t so fragrant. Like daisies. Daisies didn’t really smell like anything. They were probably less annoying to puke up too.

“You smell like flowers.” Kuroo frowns, pulling on a t-shirt.

“It’s not on purpose!” 

“Did you get a girlfriend or something?” Kuroo’s expression finally clears and he looks like he’s realized something. “Is it that girl in class 1-5? The one with short hair?”

Yaku almost drops his tie. “What?! No! I stopped liking her ages ago.” He stuffs it into his bag and starts walking away. “How do you even remember that?” he mumbles.

“Okay, but I still don’t know why you smell like flowers!” Kuroo calls.

He makes sure to slam the door in Kuroo’s face as he walks out of the locker room, feeling a surge of triumph at the brief glimpse of his gobsmacked expression.

**2) The petals get everywhere**

Yaku forgets to take his suppressants one night, and wakes up with white petals on his pillow and a heavy feeling in his chest.

He takes a deep breath before throwing the blanket off and going to brush his teeth. He counts out the pills necessary for the day and downs them with a glass of water. Then he walks back to his bed, grabbing the pillow and fluffing it into a wastebasket.

Though the medication keeps the worst of it at bay, Yaku dry heaves occasionally, nose constantly filled with the scent of gardenias.

When he isn’t able to reach the toilet, he tries to clean up as best as he can. 

But gardenia petals are light and even when attached to the flower, they are fragile, breaking off at the slightest touch.

Yaku finds fragments of gardenias in his shoes, between the pages of his notebooks, and on one memorable occasion his ass crack, pulling a petal out in the middle of a shower.

No matter how thoroughly he cleans, Yaku can’t escape the petals and the way they permeate every nook and cranny of his life.

**3) They remind him of Kuroo**

It’s not enough that he has to see Kuroo at school almost all the time- he also has to see him whenever he walks past the gardenias his mom planted or in the petals he coughs into his hands, the sink, the toilet.

Life is so fucking annoying.

💮💮💮

Yaku puts off confessing his first year.

The idea of doing so makes his heart race and stomach flip but he talks himself out of it.

 _I don’t want to make it weird,_ he tells himself. _We still have two years left in the same volleyball club and classes. Besides, Kuroo doesn’t like me like that. There’s no point._

So he continues taking his suppressants and occasionally hacking up petals, thinking the inconvenience is a small price to pay to be a part of Kuroo’s life.

💮💮💮

Yaku is grateful he didn’t confess. 

He meets Kenma in his second year, and sees the way Kuroo hovers around him.

He’s never seen Kuroo take care of anyone like that. Especially not Yaku himself.

If he discreetly coughs into his palm after seeing one of their interactions, that’s no one business but his own.

💮💮💮

The first one outside his immediate family to find out is Kai.

If it were up to Yaku, he would have gone through the entirety of high school without anyone else knowing. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he begs, seeing the surprised and slightly stricken expression on Kai’s face. He knows how sad he looks, crouched among the stark white petals scattered on the floor of a cafe restroom.

“I won’t but… how long?”

They’re both totally frozen and Yaku kind of wants to cry. “Since first year,” he whispers. He feels choked up in a way similar to right before he coughs up another set of petals. But that doesn’t make sense- he just threw up a few minutes ago. When the first tear slips down his cheek, Yaku realizes what’s happening.

He’s _crying_. 

He’s had this shitty disease for over a year now and of course the moment he finally breaks down is on the floor of a public restroom in front of one of his closest friends.

“Who…” Kai starts, but Yaku shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s no chance, he already has someone.” He uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe at his eyes before letting out a pathetic sniffle.

Before he knows it, Kai is squatting as well and wrapping long arms around him in a hug. This is all it takes for Yaku to start full on bawling, with deep hiccupping breaths and his tears soaking Kai’s shirt.

“It’s so unfair,” he sniffles. “Why me?”

Kai says nothing but holds him tighter, letting Yaku cry himself out. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay in that position but it feels like an eternity. They startle at a knock on the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay in there?” Kuroo asks, voice muffled through the wood.

“Yeah,” Kai says. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

Yaku suddenly feels very tired. He shrugs off Kai’s embrace and goes to the sink to splash water on his face, staring impassively into his own red rimmed eyes.

Kai goes to leave, but when his hand is on the door handle, he stops. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I don’t think I understand but… I can still be there for you. I care about you, Yaku. Kuroo does too. Don’t push us away.”

“Thanks,” Yaku replies, voice slightly hoarse. “I’ll remember that. Sorry for ruining our hangout.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Kai steps out, leaving him alone in the restroom. 

Somehow he feels infinitely less horrible than before.

He tears a paper towel out of the dispenser and scoops up the familiar white petals before dumping them in the trash can. Yaku washes his hands again for good measure (who knows what’s happened on that bathroom floor?) and takes a deep breath before finally heading back into the cafe.

He sees the way Kuroo frowns slightly at his slightly swollen face and drained expression. But he doesn’t tease or even ask what happened, choosing to push his uneaten croissant in Yaku’s direction instead.

The simple gesture threatens to make him cry again but he smiles in gratitude before taking a bite.

💮💮💮

“Hey Yakkun. What do you think you’re going to do after high school?”

They’re sitting on the floor of Kuroo’s bedroom, slaving through a chemistry assignment together.

“Go pro,” Yaku says instantly. He’s been thinking about it a lot, especially since it’s their third year and they have to hand in their forms for future careers soon. He knows he’s good enough to make it big, so it’s a matter of time until a recruiter contacts him. “What about you?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I’m not sure honestly.”

“You don’t want to play?” Yaku feels a pang of disappointment. He knew that no longer playing with Kuroo and Kai was inevitable, that the three of them would eventually head their separate ways, but it still hurt.

“I don’t think so.” Kuroo idly flips a page back and forth in his textbook and Yaku’s heart clenches seeing the way he’s sprawled out on the floor, angled towards the sun streaming through the window.

 _Just like a cat,_ Yaku thinks.

He bites his lip, tearing his gaze away. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I like volleyball, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t know if I want to dedicate my life to a career that’ll end in less than 20 years. Something volleyball related would be nice though,” Kuroo adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Hm. Maybe we’ll run into each other again?” It’s uncharacteristically soft of Yaku to say but he thinks it might have been worth it, judging by the way Kuroo’s head whips towards him in surprise before his lips curl into a feral grin.

“Is that your way of saying you're going to miss me?” Kuroo asks.

Yaku wrinkles his nose, feeling the telltale pressure building in his throat, warning him that he’s minutes away from coughing up more petals. “Ugh. No. I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Huh? Okay.” Kuroo looks slightly suspicious but he goes back to studying, frowning intently at his textbook.

In the bathroom, Yaku counts the petals he coughs up.

The half formed flower he hacked up is too confusing to process, so he just watches the individual petals swirl around the toilet bowl before flushing.

_He loves me_

_He loves me not_

_He loves me…_

💮💮💮

He’s running out of time.

After that one day they studied together, Yaku could tell Kuroo was getting suspicious. His suppressants were also slowly but surely waning in effectiveness, worn down by time.

The flowers he coughs up are getting larger and he mentally makes a note to ask his doctor to up the dosage or prescribe a new brand.

The end of their third year draws closer, and Yaku starts planning for the future. He still has a couple years before his hanahaki has to be surgically removed, but Yaku hopes the distance that will inevitably come between him and Kuroo will help him move on before it gets to that point.

While there are no more Kuroos in the world, Yaku is sure he will find someone else to love. Giving away a lifetime of affection because of one person is fucking stupid.

He has offers sitting on his desk from Japan, America, Russia. The number of zeroes at the end of what each club wants to pay him seems to increase with every offer but he tries not to think about them.

That doesn’t stop Yaku from going on google and typing in ‘distance from ekaterinburg to tokyo’. 

The deadlines to accept the club offers draw ever closer, and graduation looms just past that.

It is because of this that he makes a decision, and chooses to tell Kai about his hanahaki.

After practice, he, Kuroo, and Kai walk home as per usual. They don’t stop to eat anywhere this time, and Yaku is unnecessarily jittery and spacey the entire walk. Kuroo asks him if he’s okay at some point and he says he’s fine. Kai only watches the interaction, frowning in the way he does when he’s thinking hard.

The three of them make meaningless small talk until they drop Kuroo off at his house.

Yaku watches the gate close and stays completely silent until he’s sure Kuroo’s out of earshot.

Then he starts walking in the direction of his own home, giving Kai no choice but to follow. He can tell the other boy is dying to ask him what’s going on but he remains silent, letting the tension build as Yaku tries to figure out how to say what he wants to.

“It’s Kuroo,” he blurts suddenly, shattering the heavy atmosphere. “He’s… for my… you know.” Yaku flaps his hand helplessly, hoping his point gets across despite the lack of coherent words.

“Ah.” Kai nods, displaying none of the surprise Yaku had expected. “I figured.”

Count on Kai to be freakishly perceptive, even off the volleyball court. “What do you mean you _figured_?”

“After that day at the cafe it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together. And you usually don’t make any secret of your thoughts around him,” Kai says. “So it was weird that you weren’t telling him things. And you said he had someone… did you mean Kenma?”

Yaku snorts. “Who else?”

His friend looks like he’s thinking carefully about the right words to say so Yaku turns his attention to the pavement in front of him, counting the cracks.

“I think you would be surprised about Kuroo’s feelings,” Kai says, and it’s unexpected but also the most cryptic thing Yaku has ever heard from him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Was he implying-?

No. No way.

Kai shrugs. “So are you going to confess or anything?”

The truth is, he had been thinking about it. Though they had stayed in the club after nationals, the third years no longer had any games to play and were more a support system than active participants. Yaku confessing to Kuroo shouldn’t cause any problems and he could easily get closure on his unrequited feelings before (maybe) never speaking to him again. Although the idea of not seeing Kuroo again was sad, Yaku supposed he could live with it if things got embarrassing enough. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Yaku says. “After graduation.” The second button on his school shirt is still attached but he toys with the idea of giving it to Kuroo.

How would he react? Would he be shocked? Horrified? Disgusted? Happy?

“Are you sure that isn’t too late?” Kai asks.

“I think it’s just perfect.”

💮💮💮

March comes entirely too fast. After much deliberation, Yaku accepts the offer for a club in Russia named Cheegle Ekaterinberg.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo says into his ear when Yaku tells him, leaning down to sling an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous, yeah?”

He doesn’t think he could ever forget Kuroo. Yaku swallows a cough and winces slightly at the petals slipping back down his throat before shrugging his arm off and giving a thin smile. “Now why on earth would I want to remember you?”

“Shut up!” Kuroo hisses.

The day they graduate is warm with clear blue skies, the sun beating down on the third years as they exit the school for the final time.

Yaku cries a lot. He hugs many of his classmates and everyone on the volleyball team, even Lev. He is uncharacteristically weepy today, laughing and smiling through the tears as pictures are taken.

The day is utter chaos, but he finds he doesn’t mind. 

“You’ll be fine,” Yaku finds himself saying as he pats a sobbing Yamamoto on the back. “I’m just a phone call away.”

“Take care of him,” he tells Kenma when he finally reaches him. While he doesn’t mention any names, they both know who he’s talking about and the quiet setter simply nods.

Yaku spots Kuroo in the distance, talking to some other second years. He reaches into his pocket, curling fingers around the slightly shrivelled gardenia he picked from his mom’s garden that morning and the second button he ripped off moments before graduation, wayward threads still dangling from it.

The pressure in his throat isn’t from flowers or tears this time- it’s what he feels before a volleyball match, when he takes his place on the court.

It’s nerves but also anticipation, a desire to face whatever’s coming head on.

Despite all Yaku had told himself about not getting his hopes up, he continues to wonder.

What if Kuroo did love him?

_He loves me_

_He loves me not_

_He loves me_

He doesn’t tear the petals from the flower this time, instead counting them by touch. 

Once again, Yaku stops before accounting for all the petals. He’ll find out soon enough if Kuroo loves him anyway.

For these few blissful moments, he can hold on to the feelings of this painful, beautiful love, seeing the entirety of his high school memories through rose-colored glasses.

Closure will come.

💮💮💮

Many people forget that hanahaki is first and foremost a genetic disease, set off only by environmental triggers. They get swept up in thoughts of romance and treatments, before thinking about how exactly one gets it.

Only one of Kuroo’s parents had it.

Yet that doesn’t stop him from coughing up gardenia petals one day after practice in his first year. He remains calm though, telling his parents before they book an appointment and drive him to the hospital.

He sits on the examination table, listening intently as the doctor draws out a punnett square for his family and explains how he got it. One of his parents had the dominant gene to not get hanahaki and carried the recessive one for hanahaki, while the other had both recessives and therefore the disease. With the way the square was drawn, it seemed as though there was only a 50% chance he could have gotten it.

Just his luck then.

People also often forget that the disease can be caused by loves other than romantic- the brochures he gets at the office tell him all about unrequited platonic and familial love.

When Kuroo’s parents ask about his hanahaki, he lies through his teeth. He tells them it’s because of a friend, probably because of some fight or realization.

Really it’s because of the way Yaku will fight him at any opportunity and how he knows Yaku will have his back, both on and off the court.

 _I don’t want to make things weird,_ Kuroo reasons. _I’ll tell him later._

But for all he loves Yaku, the other boy is impossible to read sometimes. He’s hot and cold with Kuroo and it makes his head spin.

He also knows Yaku never shares if he doesn’t want to so when he, Kai, and Yaku go to the cafe together and Yaku comes out of the bathroom with red-rimmed eyes, Kuroo simply pushes his own croissant towards him.

He sees the way Yaku interacts with Lev, realizes he hasn’t seen him that way with anyone else, least of all him.

 _Could be worse_ , he reminds himself, coughing gardenia petals into a wastebasket. _You could be somewhere with no Yaku at all._

He tells Kai about his feelings for the libero one day, when Yaku doesn’t walk home with them because of classroom clean up duty.

“I think you’d be surprised about Yakkun’s feelings towards you,” Kai had said, with all his infinite wisdom and patience.

Just like the time he had caught a whiff of gardenias on Yaku during their first year, he felt a brief surge of hope, wondered briefly about being _more_ with Yaku-

-but didn’t actually try. 

Not until now.

Their graduation comes in a flash and as Kuroo’s talking to some of the other second years, he watches Yaku awkwardly pat a crying Yamamoto on the back out of the corner of his eye.

He unconsciously reaches for his pocket, touching the second button he had torn off his uniform earlier today, wayward threads still dangling from it.

Kuroo has to confess today. He knows this opportunity is once in a lifetime, that soon he will be in college and Yaku will be 6000 miles away, that he needs to know how Yaku really feels without the confusion of his own thoughts.

And he will confess, most likely pulling Yaku aside, away from the prying eyes of their teammates and families, to bare his heart and soul.

But for now he can hold on to the feelings of this painful, beautiful love, seeing the entirety of his high school memories through rose-colored glasses.

Closure will come.

**Author's Note:**

> marvel at flowers you'll have made
> 
> [author's note](https://avatar-the-last-jerkbender.tumblr.com/post/633152928065142784/authors-note-for-crushed-gardenia-petals)


End file.
